Queen of Hearts
by Shellecah
Summary: Chester's tumultuous conquest
1. Chapter 1

Nowadays Mr. Dillon, Doc and Miss Kitty shared a table at Delmonico's while Chester and his lady sat to themselves. Leastways, he fancied her as his own. She had a New York beau, a merchant named Keaton Alexander. The fellow promised to write and ask her to marry him when his new grocery store flourished and he bought a house.

"Though if I accept another man, too bad for him," Celeste Chandler said the day Kitty hired her to hostess. "I am weary of waiting so I fled to Dodge City. This is the finest place in town; I shall meet lots of suitors here. A handsome rich gentleman if I'm lucky."

At twenty-seven years of age, Celeste had always worked as a companion. She wore no cosmetics, and unlike the saloon girls' scanty silk costumes, her woolen dresses for the autumn season buttoned to her throat with skirts touching shoes that covered her feet instead of high-heeled slippers.

Her garments were nonetheless fashionable and bright, adorned with silk lace, embroidery and pearls, and fitted to her slender yet gracefully curving figure, and feathers and flowers decorated her hats. Celeste captivated Kitty's patrons without uttering a word, though she liked to talk and was cordial.

Unmarried men of means in Dodge were often passing through on business, and those who sought Celeste's company either had coarse faces and ungainly builds, or some emanation or manner that repelled her, or they were forceful or cold, rough or shallow or stingy. Any who were not moneyed she politely and promptly rebuffed, except Chester.

Although a poor man he was gentlemanly, and had no traits she found disagreeable. Tall, slim and well-formed, he had a sensitive, artless face and tan skin, large, soulful brown eyes and soft brown hair. Not classically handsome, his features on the whole pleased Celeste, though exactly why she couldn't say. He was given to chatting as she was, and she liked his soft-spoken drawl and quaint speech.

The expected letter awaited Celeste at the post on the morning of the day she lunched with Chester. Keaton was traveling to Dodge to fetch her back to New York, where they'd move into a house with servants in Brooklyn Heights if only she'd consent to be his wife.

His roast prairie grouse and yams untouched, Chester rested his arms on the table and leaned close to Celeste, his look blissful and his round eyes shining. She made him feel alive as he never had, like he'd wandered all his days in his sleep and she woke him. Too giddy to eat much, he'd grown some thinner despite his fondness for tasty vittles.

She was the most beautiful woman he'd seen, and the most enchanting and ladylike. Miss Celeste had big, very dark eyes, deep and clear as clean water mirroring the sun and framed by long lashes, abundant silky hair curling loosely and colored like honey, and creamy skin perfect as a china doll's. Her facial bones were finely cut, her nose delicate and somewhat short and her mouth just the slightest bit full. She wore her hair pinned up with combs painted with sprigs and birds, and curls spilled to her shoulders and waved round the soft curves of her face.

Sitting at a table across the dining room, Matt, Kitty and Doc noticed what Chester in his smitten state did not. Doc said, "She's lookin' at him soft, like she loves 'im but she's sorry for him. Like she has something to say that'll—" Doc dipped his spoon in his antelope stew, and without putting it in his mouth dropped it in the bowl, shaking his head.

"That will hurt him." Matt finished.

"It's _always _so with Chester and girls," said Kitty. "Oh Doc, how can we help him. He's never been this much in love."

"I don't wanna look at their table no more." Doc sipped his coffee and made a bitter face. "Coffee tastes like burning rubber smells, and the stew's slimy. I'm ready for a cold beer, Kitty. Wash the foul taste outa my mouth."

"Now Doc," said Kitty, "I'm not leaving here until Celeste says whatever she says to Chester. He'll need a friend close by if he gets too distressed."

"I know it," said Doc. "I also know that comfort in this situation is woman's work. He'll want you, Kitty, not me."

"Well I don't care if he wants _me_ or not," said Matt, "I'm keepin' an eye on him and Miss Celeste long as they set there. Chester works for me and I'm gonna know what's goin' on."

"He'll tell us both when he gets ready, Matt. He always does," said Kitty. "I wish we could hear what they're saying." Chester was holding Celeste's hands. "He doesn't look stunned anyway. I don't think she broke it off with him."

"Well if you and Matt aren't leaving now, Kitty . . . then neither am I," said Doc. He gulped water. "Water's the only thing tastes good in this place today."

"I'll buy us all a beer when we leave," said Kitty.

Celeste would usually encourage Chester to eat his lunch. He was getting skinny and she worried his falling for her caused his lack of appetite. She feared hearing of her letter would sour his stomach though, so she kept quiet about eating.

"The letter came from my beau in New York. Keaton Alexander. He's on his way to Kansas as we speak. His store is doing well and he had a new house built and he proposed," said Celeste.

"Oh," said Chester, lightly squeezing her small soft hands. "You gonna marry him?"

"I don't know yet. He is handsome and prosperous, and a gentleman, and affectionate. I would say yes at once if not for you, Chester."

"_Oh," _said Chester, smiling radiantly. "You wanna marry _me_ then!"

"_No," _she said. "That is, at the moment, no; I have not decided. I'm _very_ fond of you, Chester, but you cannot provide for a wife and you stay at the jailhouse. I'd have no home of my own; we'd live in my room at Ma Smalley's. I'd have to work if I married you, and I couldn't keep my hostess job at the Long Branch. School teaching would be tortuous; I hate the idea. I'd have to work as receptionist at an attorney's or cattle buyer's, or some sort of respectable place."

Chester's face drooped as Celeste talked. "I reckon then you see nothin' 'bout me better'n yer eastern friend," he said. "I got no money, and I ain't good-lookin' like him."

"Oh, I like your looks," said Celeste. "You are every bit as courtly as Keaton, and sweeter. The money's the thing, Chester. I can't say I will marry you without it. That is, if you were to ask me."

"Ah'd ask you straightaway if I thought you'd say yes. Um feared you'll say no an' everthin' will be lost. Like as clouds coverin' the sun and it never comes out agin."

"Chester," she said. "If I end breaking your heart I'll despise myself."

"Gracious, Miss Celeste, I'd never think on blamin' you at all. If ma heart gits broke, it's my doin'. Yer friend what's comin' ta Dodge. He jealous?"

"Yes, like most men in love, but he is not forceful, or stern to me on account of it. Keaton is never harsh with me. And he dislikes fighting other men. He thinks it crude and stupid. You needn't be afraid of him, Chester."

"I ain't afeard. 'Cept of losin' you to him." Had Alexander been a brute, he would not have scared Chester, who felt no fear of the most menacing rival when he went sweet on a woman. He thought only of Miss Celeste and how desperately he wanted her, and his love made him bold enough to face down a gunman barehanded.

"I'd admire to still keep company with you," he said. "Seein' as you ain't settled things in yer head yet."

"I'd like that." Celeste withdrew her hands from his, cupped his face in her palms and kissed him over the table. He ardently returned the kiss, his fingers playing through her hair, unaware that Mr. Dillon and Miss Kitty and Doc stared from their table, the marshal and Miss Kitty smiling and Doc's face showing a pleased look as close to a grin as ever crossed it.

Off at sundown, Celeste worked days at the Long Branch, and Chester spent every spare moment with her at the saloon, walking her to Ma Smalley's at night. He neglected his duties at the marshal's office, forgetting to go to the livery for Buck when Matt needed his horse, letting the stove fire burn out with cold coffee long in the pot, and wandering Front Street singing while the floor was half-swept and the water basin empty.

Matt refrained from scolding him, saying nothing about Chester's shirking. Though it annoyed Matt, who liked things clean, neat and in order, he suppressed his vexation. Chester was after all naturally tidier and more inclined to clean up than the marshal, though he had no particular liking for chores and the work tired him.

Matt was not so averse to dirt and disorder that he'd take on the chores himself. He preferred to keep asking Chester to get Buck from the stable in hopes he'd remember, rather than freeing his assistant from the duty for a time and walking to Grimmick's for his horse. Though he paid Chester, Matt understood and sympathized, knowing the fervency of Chester's feelings for Celeste drained him so he had little strength left for a job that Matt at his soundest would hardly consider doing.

Keaton Alexander came to the Long Branch on a morning when clouds darkened the sky and frigid rain driven on a howling wind pelleted Dodge. Except for Kitty, Sam, Chester and Celeste, the saloon was empty.

Alexander's hat, coat and fine wool suit were soaked, and his boots squelched on the floorboards. "Oh, there you are, my love," he said, smiling wearily at her as he took off his hat, which poured water on the floor. The hat had not protected his head from the rain, and his wiry light-brown curls were plastered to his head.

"_Keaton," _said Celeste, beaming at him. She rose from the table where she sat with Chester and Kitty and went to Alexander.

"How ravishing you look, Celeste," he said. "But then, you always look ravishing. Don't hug me yet, darling; you'll get all wet. I don't want you catching cold as I have."

"You caught cold?" said Celeste. "You should not have come here, Keaton. You ought to have taken a hot bath and ordered a toddy in your hotel room, and stayed there until the rain stops."

"I had to find you, honey," he said. "I couldn't wait to see you."

"It's good to see you, too," she said, taking his hand. "Your hand is too warm, wet as you are in this freezing weather. And you're looking a touch peaked. You've lost weight, just like my friend Chester here. On account of me, and it troubles me."

Keaton looked suddenly grave, frowning slightly. "Your friend?" he said in a low tone.

"Yes," said Celeste. "And this is Miss Kitty Russell. She owns the Long Branch, and she was so kind to hire me as hostess."

"Miss Kitty," said Keaton. "Delighted."

Kitty looked into his vital gray eyes and knew he was a decent man, if particularly strong-willed like many successful businessmen were. She encountered all breeds of men, and before buying co-ownership and eventually taking full possession of the Long Branch, she'd known every sort of man intimately as a lady of the night. She could tell in a moment's scrutiny what type a man was, if he was bad, saintly, knavish, or like this one, civil. "Mr. Alexander," she said, smiling.

"Please," he said. "Call me Keaton."

"Alright, Keaton. It stopped raining, but who knows for how long. You best get to your hotel and dry off before your cold turns to pneumonia," said Kitty.

"You befriended my Celeste, then, Mr. . . . .?" said Keaton.

"Chester Goode's the name," said Chester. "Miss Celeste an' me is close friends."

Keaton gave a slow nod, looking at once amused, perplexed and worried. "Celeste," he said, "you cannot be welcoming attentions from this man?"

"Chester courts me and I enjoy his company," said Celeste. "And we musn't talk further now, Keaton. Go on to your room and do as I said before the rain starts again."

"Whereabouts are ya stayin'," said Chester.

"Dodge House," said Keaton. "See here, Mr. Goode, I won't allow you to steal my lady, understand? Celeste is _my _lady, and I'm marrying her."

Chester calmly regarded him. Though Celeste said he was neither forceful or a fighter, and he looked refined, with a jealous fellow there was no telling. Chester calculated the man's size and strength, and reckoned he could likely best Alexander in a tussle if it came to that. He was some two inches shorter than Chester with shoulders about the same breadth and a slightly larger frame that looked more lean than robust.

Chester pushed back his chair and rose. "Miss Celeste ain't accepted you," he said. "She kin pass the time with any feller she takes a likin' to."

"She is educated and she has fine tastes," said Keaton. "A man like you hasn't the faintest concept of how to take care of a well-bred woman. What are you, a cow hand?"

"I work for Marshal Dillon."

Keaton looked taken aback. "You're a deputy?"

"I'm Mr. Dillon's assistant."

"Like a jailer or some such thing," said Keaton, his clothing dripping rainwater. "You'd make an absurd match for my lady. You were just amusing her because she was lonely for me."

"Don't be a conceited ass, Keaton," said Celeste. "Go to your room now and change out of those clothes or I'll never give a thought to marrying you ever."

"In that case I will go at once," said Keaton, "for I'd soon die if you rejected me, my dear." He was seized by a fit of wet coughing from the depths of his chest that left him breathless.

"Ah'll ask Doc ta call on you iffen you want," said Chester.

"I don't want any favors from you," said Keaton, and coughed some more.

"What you want doesn't matter," said Celeste. "Chester's sending for Doc Adams."

"Very well," said Keaton. "You've made me helpless in all this, Celeste. He put on his sodden hat. "Good day, Miss Kitty. Pleasure meeting you."

Kitty gave a small nod, her mouth tight and a chill in her exquisite blue eyes. Alexander was jealous, sick and no doubt exhausted from his journey, and his brazen haughtiness did not change her opinion of him as respectable. Even so, Chester was her dear friend, and hearing him belittled angered Kitty.

"I am sorry for my conduct, ma'am," Keaton said meekly. "You've been so kind to Celeste, I hope you will forgive me." Kitty nodded again, her face softening.

"What an embarrassing introduction," said Celeste, when Keaton left. "I apologize for him. He is not himself."

"That's alright, Miss Celeste," said Chester. "A man in love cain't be himself. Not whilst another man seeks yer hand, particular. I best get Doc. Yer friend he sounds bad off." He headed for the batwings.

"Chester," said Celeste. Her voice was like singing, and whenever she spoke his name he felt an almost painful kindling in his chest and belly. "You didn't kiss me," she said. "We kiss even when we part a short spell. I hope Keaton's coming won't change that."

"_Oh," _said Chester. "I don't want that ta change at all, always." They kissed, brief and proper on account of Miss Kitty sitting by. When no one was about, he kissed Miss Celeste long as he could until she pushed him away. Her little hands would feel hot and damp on his chest, and he liked the pushing near as much as the kissing. Chester limped slowly to the batwings and out to the rain-soaked walkway, a mite wobbly in his boots.

"Sit down, Celeste," said Kitty. "We need to talk. You want some coffee?" Celeste didn't drink beer or whiskey, and as she only took coffee with plenty of sugar and cream, Kitty had stocked up on both.

"Yes, I'll have some," said Celeste. Sam remembered how she liked her coffee, and kept cream hot on the stove.

"Can we have two coffees, Sam?" said Kitty.

"Yes, Miss Kitty."

"Is this about my suitors, Kitty?" said Celeste.

"This is about Chester as far as I'm concerned," said Kitty. "Keaton's your affair."

"I know how much you care for Chester. I don't want to hurt him, Kitty. That's the last thing I want to do."

"Celeste, at this point the only way for you _not_ to hurt him is to marry him, and I don't think you're gonna do that. You want a man with money, and Chester doesn't have any."

Sam appeared at their table with two steaming coffee cups, and they thanked him. "I don't see how you can drink it black, Kitty," said Celeste with a shudder. "It's so bitter."

"That's what makes it good," said Kitty. "You're in love with Keaton. I can tell by the way you look at him. Can't say as I blame you. He's good-looking and gentlemanly, he has a home and he does very well for himself. A man like that is easy to love. You likely couldn't help loving him if you tried."

"You're right," said Celeste, with a winsome little smile. "But Kitty, I love Chester, too. I didn't expect to; I don't know how it happened. I don't know why I love him; I just _do_."

"And you have no intention of marrying him?" said Kitty.

Celeste pondered the question, gazing into Kitty's eyes as though she could find the answer there. "I could," Celeste said musingly. "I could find a receptionist position at a pleasant estimable place in town, with a kind employer. It wouldn't be bad. Chester would move into my room at Ma Smalley's."

"What about when you have children?" said Kitty. "He'd need a job that pays more. He'd work hard for you, Celeste, but there's not a whole lot Chester can do so far as earning a good wage goes. He doesn't take to farming, except maybe as a hand."

"We'd figure it out when the time came," said Celeste.

"You need to decide, Celeste, and the sooner the better."

"I know. One of them will be hurt because of me, but I must."

"I think I know which one will get hurt. It's always the same when he goes sweet on a girl. Celeste, I have nothing against you. You're a gracious lady and you're good for business. I was happy to hire you, but now I wish you never came to Dodge," said Kitty.

Although a compassionate woman, Celeste was emotionally strong and pragmatic, with feelings not easily wounded even by those she cared for. She liked Kitty as a friendly acquaintance and was genially polite to her, deferring to the orders Kitty always expressed as affable requests, yet Celeste's respect for Kitty as her employer barely exceeded propriety.

The saloon girls had told Celeste of Kitty's past, and how she was rumored still to occasionally provide services as a courtesan. Kitty not only operated a saloon, but the girls gossiped that her man, Marshal Dillon, habitually visited her room.

Gazing into Kitty's alluring, worldly-wise eyes, Celeste felt a surge of guilty embarrassment as she suspected Kitty knew what Celeste thought of her. Kitty looked amused and forbearing, and Celeste's shame melted away, so warmed and eased did she feel by the kindliness Kitty exuded.

"I understand, Kitty. Like I said, I love Chester, too." Celeste smiled. Kitty returned her smile, and the two women companionably sipped their coffee.

Had Chester known the women talked with worriment of him, he would beg them not to trouble themselves. Undaunted by Alexander, Chester felt heartened so long as Celeste let him keep company with her, and did not betroth herself to Alexander or any other man. Chester passed his days in a rapturous state since meeting her, untouched by the diffidence that normally dogged him except around his friends. He feared losing Celeste, yet the rawness of that fear could not penetrate the incessant swift beat of his heart or the lightness in his head.

Hands in his coat pockets against the damp cold, he hummed cheerily to himself as he headed for Doc's. Dodge teemed with cattle drives at harvest time, and drovers crowded Front Street, filling the saloons. Farmers were in town with loads of wheat and corn for sale, and provisions to take home and store for the coming winter, and peddlers hawked their wares, their wagons brimming.

At times the noise and activity of Dodge City at planting and harvest seasons made Chester feel hemmed in and restive, so he wished himself far away West in a mountainous desert, or in a forest he'd read of in a book on the states and territories, a wilderness of trees with red wood tall as the sky. Or on the sands by the sea. The liveliness of Dodge at other times excited him as anything could happen, where or when no telling. Now that Celeste held his thoughts hostage every waking hour and his dreams at night, Chester wanted only to be with her, wherever that was, whether in a sleepy town that never saw the stage or train, or a great city with foundries and townhouses and every street named with a sign on its corner.

His boots were muddied from the spattered walkway, and so as not to soil the floor in Doc's office, he dipped first one boot and then the other in the trough near the stairs. Reading one of the thick medical books that made Chester's head swim a bit at the sight, Doc relaxed on his lounge with a coffee cup on an end table nearby. Fire crackled in the stove, and his office was warm and moist.

"Doc," said Chester. "That friend of Miss Celeste's done showed from the East and he's took bad cold. Pneumonia from the sound of 'im." Doc sat up abruptly and gave Chester a probing look.

"What," said Chester.

Doc shook his head, frowning as he collected his bag and implements. "What'd you say that fella's name is?"

"Keaton Alexander. He's at Dodge House. You don't need me ta come, do you, Doc?" Chester said as they went down the stairs.

"I reckon not," said Doc.

"Then ah'll go back to the Long Branch and chat some more with Miss Celeste. Miss Kitty an' Sam's the onliest ones there 'sides her."

"She won't marry you, Chester," said Doc, in the kindly yet sober, patient tone he used when he tended Chester for a wound or sickness. "Kitty says this Alexander has a house and successful store, and Celeste loves him."

"I know _that_, Doc. Miss Celeste jest 'bout tole me that. Th-that she loves 'im. She most tole me she loves _me_ too, no matter him. She ain't set 'er hat on him, so ah'm still courtin' her," Chester explained.

"Well I can see there's no talking you out of it," said Doc. They stopped in front of the Long Branch, and Doc looked up and fixed his acute blue eyes on Chester's face.

"_What, _Doc."

"You come back by my office later after I treat that Alexander fella," Doc ordered.

"Why," said Chester.

"You need a tonic," said Doc. "You're off your feed. You're too skinny and you got no color, and your eyes look tired."

"Folks ain't got color rainy season, Doc," Chester argued.

"You do. Normally," said Doc. "You're lovesick. That young woman has you spelled."

"She's the finest purtiest lady ever in all ma days," Chester breathed, filmy-eyed and smiling. "But I don't need no tonic, Doc. Never felt better in my life."

"That's what worries me," said Doc. "Come by and pick up the tonic anyway. Here." He dug in his pocket and handed Chester a quarter. "Buy yourself a steak for lunch, and mind you eat all of it. Don't set moonin' over it and let it get cold. And don't invite Celeste to dine with you."

"Well alright, Doc." Chester took the quarter. "Ya dun haveta be so stern 'bout it."

Chester pushed through the batwings, and Doc continued on to Dodge House. "Howdy, Doc," said the desk clerk. "If you're looking for Mr. Alexander, he's in the room at the end of the hall, upstairs to your right."

"Thank you," said Doc.

"He was coughing up his lungs, just about," said the clerk. "We drew him a hot bath straightaway. He's in bed with a toddy."

Doc knocked on the door and went in when Alexander called to him to enter. A handsome man about Chester's age with an expressive genteel face somewhat at odds with the resolute spark in his eyes and the determined set of his jaw sat resting against two pillows in the bed. He wore a dove-gray silk nightshirt that matched his gray eyes, and sipped from a steaming cup that smelled of brandy.

"Mr. Alexander, I'm Doc Adams."

"Doc. I'm afraid this cold is more than a trifle," Alexander said weakly. "I was caught in the rain, you know. I told the man at the saloon I wanted no favors from him as he's formed a dalliance with my lady, but I must confess I am obliged to him for sending you."

"You mean Chester?" said Doc.

"You know him, then?"

"He's a friend of mine," Doc said. He sat on the bed and lay his palm on Alexander's forehead. "You're fevered."

"I'm hot as the fires, then the next minute I have chills and ague. It's off and on like that."

"Open your mouth if you would," said Doc. He examined the man's tongue, throat and the inside of his mouth with a tongue depressor. "You've been coughing up blood and your gums are almost white. You're anemic."

"I guess I have pneumonia."

Doc took a stethoscope from his bag and listened to Alexander's heart, then placed the bell on the left side of his chest. "Cough," said Doc.

Alexander coughed once, then a fit of loose wet coughing from deep in his diaphragm shook his body. He reached for a bloodstained handkerchief on the end table by the bed and spit blood into it. Doc moved the bell to the right side of the patient's chest and then to his stomach as he coughed. "Take a deep breath," said Doc. Alexander inhaled noisily and the coughing racked him again.

"Your chest hurt?" said Doc.

The man nodded. "Like it's being squeezed and pressed at the same time. I can't breathe deep."

Doc touched the bell to Alexander's back against his ribs on both sides, then pulled out the stethoscope ear-tips and gazed somberly at him as he pulled his nightshirt up over his shoulders. "Lost some weight, have you?" said Doc.

"Yes. My appetite isn't hardy as usual." Keaton met the sagacious eyes looking sympathetically into his, and Doc saw fear shadow the man's face.

"What is it, Doc? I have pneumonia, right?"

Doc put his hand on the silk-covered arm resting on the bed. "You have tuberculosis, Mr. Alexander."


	2. Chapter 2

The hankering to see her or simply hear her voice gnawed him like a hunger that would not leave him be. Every place he went without her seemed desolated. Lying abed at midday, he wished for a picture of Miss Celeste to dream over and keep in his pocket.

Matt sat at the desk, studying each _Wanted _circular in a thick stack and alphabetizing the posters. He tried to make time once every fortnight to memorize the names and drawings or tintypes. He couldn't recollect seeing any of the outlaws in Dodge. Since Chester continued absent-minded, the marshal was grateful that the jails cells at the moment were empty.

Matt paused in working his way through the posters to look at his friend. Thanks to Doc, Chester had gained back the weight he lost pining over Miss Celeste. The tonic restored his appetite and the tan to his face, and made him sleep soundly so he no longer looked tired or thrashed around mumbling in his dreams.

As Ma Smalley was the best cook in Dodge, Doc asked her to send some food baskets to the marshal's office. Doc knew Chester couldn't resist Ma's roast duck with fixings and apple pie, despite his yearning for Miss Celeste. Like the generous soul she was, Ma refused any pay for the food, and Doc's nickels went to the boy who delivered the baskets. As Chester would object to her doing more work just for him, Matt explained that he wanted to take a break from Delmonico's fare, but had no time to walk to Ma's for lunch and supper.

Staring from his bed at the ceiling as images of Miss Celeste flitted across his eyes, Chester didn't turn his head when the door opened. Doc likely had come to urge him to play billiards or such to cure him of thinking on his lady the day long, when he had no wish to be cured, nor could he be. Doc just wouldn't see that Miss Celeste was stuck inside Chester's head and heart for always, even if she left him for her consumptive beau.

When Mr. Dillon stood up and said, "Hello, Miss Celeste," Chester's body jerked so hard he tumbled off the bed onto the floor. She giggled like a bell tinkling while he grinned at her from the floor, too happy for embarrassment.

"Hello, Marshal," she said. "Chester."

"Miss Celeste," Chester said tremulously, climbing to his feet. "Kin ah git you some water or coffee maybe?" He raked his fingers through his hair.

"Thank you, no," she said. "Marshal, please sit and go on with your work. Don't let me disturb you."

"You're not disturbing me," said Matt, seating himself.

"I need to speak with you, Chester," said Celeste. "Can we take a walk?"

"_Oh. _Sure. I'd admire to." Smiling, Chester opened the door for her to go out ahead of him.

"It's cold," she said, her dark eyes sparkling with amusement. "You'll need your hat and coat."

"_Oh." _Chester tittered, put on his hat and coat and took a gold tendril of her silken hair in his hand.

His smile did not dim when she pulled his hand from her hair, as the touch of her small gloved hand thrilled him. Watching them, Matt guessed what her gesture meant. Chester was openly affectionate with his girls, and until now Matt had only seen Celeste welcome the caresses. The marshal worried. Chester was more taken with Celeste than he'd ever been with any woman since Matt knew him. Her leaving would hit him hard, and in spite of his resilient nature, Matt wondered if Chester would fully recover.

Celeste made no move to take Chester's arm as she usually did when they walked. He tried to put his arm around her waist and she skipped out of reach. He wasn't troubled as he knew she had somewhat on her mind. "Let's walk on the prairie," she said.

The plains grass had grown high from the rain, as tall in spots as the skirt of Celeste's brown wool dress. They walked quietly, Chester unwittingly matching his mood to hers. Content to be near her, he felt no need to chat when she was silent.

"I cannot marry Keaton while he's ill," said Celeste. Chester stopped walking and looked down at her, struggling to stay still and serious when he wanted to grin and take her in his arms. His heart bounded and a warm rush like a fine draught of rye swept from his belly through his slim frame, tingling his fingers and toes.

"We can sit on the rock yonder by the creek," she said. Fortified by autumn rainstorms, the creek streamed frothing from the Arkansas. Chester and Celeste sat on a smooth rock near the water's edge.

"I can't kiss him," said Celeste. "Doc says I might catch the consumption if we kiss. He says I shouldn't hold Keaton even, but I do. He needs me to hold him and be with him. He needs me."

Chester felt a dropping in his gut, and the warmth that had filled him a moment before turned to ice. "We're leaving Dodge, Chester," said Celeste. "We're traveling to a sanitarium near Tucson. I'll stay in the city so I can visit him. I never realized how much I love Keaton 'til he got so sick and helpless."

Her clear dark eyes pitying yet guarded, she looked searchingly at Chester. Her love for him had diminished to a milder affection since Keaton fell ill.

"He could die," said Chester. His throat felt tight. "Not at old age. Whilst he's young. I wouldn't never sicken an' die young on you, Miss Celeste. Ah'll be old when I pass on."

"Oh Chester," said Celeste. "It's not Keaton's fault he's sick."

"Ain't sayin' 'tis. Won't happen to me is all. Ah'll stay well 'n keep ma wits sharp, an' live a long time," said Chester.

She smiled a little. "You don't know that."

"No matter I dunno it. I _will_," said Chester. Celeste's smile widened.

" 'Sides that," he went on, "maybe, maybe you don't love 'im like you think. He might die soon, an' yer smilin' with me. Back to the jail you laughed fit to be tickled as you please."

"I love Keaton much as I can love any man," said Celeste. "I don't know as I ever felt despair. In New York, we may not see the sun long spells in the wintertime, but I recollect it bright and warm on the grayest coldest days, Chester. I know the sun's there; I can almost see and feel it. And no matter what sad things happen, I can smile and laugh a few moments later. I don't hurt as easily or deeply as some women do. I might not even cry if Keaton dies. Perhaps that makes me hard in a way."

Amid the gloom settling over him like a night with no stars, Chester yet took pleasure in hearing the music of her voice, though he lost the drift of what she said. The part about her being hard troubled him. Though she was leaving him for that Alexander and Chester had no words to fit how it hurt, he shrank from thinking on Celeste as a hard woman. "You ain't hard," he muttered, gazing at the rushing creek.

"Thank you for that, Chester." She stood up. "We may as well head back to town now."

He rose and limped beside her. "When—" said Chester, and swallowed. "When're you leavin'?" he asked, his voice trembling.

"Tomorrow on the noon stage."

"Tomorrow a'ready?"

"The Kansas air makes Keaton worse," said Celeste. "We must leave for Arizona at once if he's to get better."

She glanced up at Chester, who as they neared Dodge gazed ahead at the town. He looked stunned and his brown eyes gleamed with unshed tears. Her own eyes were dry and her voice steady. Though guilt nagged her and she was sorry for him, she felt not the least bit like crying. She had no urge to cry when Keaton told her he had consumption, yet she loved him, and a tender fondness for Chester remained warm around her heart.

Truthfully, Celeste was excited about traveling to Arizona, seeing the Tucson sights and staying in a nice hotel, and riding to the sanitarium to visit Keaton and talk with him so she wouldn't be lonely. His grocery store in New York made good money, and although she would not marry him unless he was cured of the sickness, he'd promised to provide for her in comfort, and had written his will leaving his business, house and money to her when he died. Celeste had quit her job at the Long Branch and no longer had to work. She lifted her chin and breathed deeply of the cold damp air, which smelled of grass and clean dirt, and swung her reticule as she walked.

"Well, yer bright 'n sprangy," Chester said reproachfully, his voice quavering. "I thought you cared fer me _some_, Miss Celeste."

She stopped to hug him. "Oh Chester, I'm sorry." She was not wearing a hat or bonnet. When the sun was not hot and she went walking or riding, she liked the free feeling of the breeze on her head, blowing her hair every which way out of the combs and pins.

Chester held her, feeling her slender soft body warm and small against his. Like a lot of women, like Miss Kitty, Celeste seemed not to know how much she needed a man's strength, and her unawareness stirred a longing in him to protect her as his own. He needed her too, as she made him sure and bold. He had no notion how to get on without her.

He lowered his head and kissed her fragrant hair, feather soft against his mouth. Celeste's senses heightened and she felt a pleasing spear of heat deep inside. She'd never lain with a man and couldn't know Keaton as his wife or even kiss him for fear of catching his sickness. She raised her pretty face to Chester and he kissed her, his arms tightening round her.

Celeste was a lady, and much as he wanted her, he had to keep that to mind. He wished at the moment that she was a dance hall gal.

Celeste knew she could have Chester there in the grass if she gave herself to him. He'd be her first time. Though his features lacked the uniform artistry of Keaton's, there was a sort of natural grace and gentility about Chester, and Celeste liked looking at him. He was an obliging man, and she felt sure his loving would be tender and considerate.

She thought of Keaton's drawn face in its tubercular pallor, and knew she would not make love to Chester. He was kissing her more eagerly now, on her cheeks and hair as well as her mouth, his breathing loud and quick. He pressed her against himself and tugged her down a bit.

Celeste put her gloved palms on his chest and pushed him, harder than she intended. He was nimble and did many things that men sound in all their limbs did, and at times she almost forgot about his lame leg. He stumbled and fell backward in the grass.

Celeste gasped, her big dark eyes growing even larger and her hands covering her mouth. "Oh my goodness," she said. "I'm sorry."

Chester looked up at her from the ground, his eyes clouded and vague and his mouth open. As in the marshal's office, when he'd fallen out of bed and his elation at seeing Celeste overcame any embarrassment, he felt no shame now, too gratified at the sweet remembrance she'd just given him, kissing him in the long blowing grass by the rushing creek, Chester and his lady alone on the prairie. He could watch the remembrance like a theater play in his head when she was gone, and the startling push, her hands hot through her gloves against his chest, weakening him when he felt his strongest, made it the more thrilling.

"Are you hurt?" said Celeste.

Chester closed his mouth and shook his head, and took his time getting up. He felt shaky and drained.

Celeste took off her gloves and put them in her coat pocket, reached for his hands and stroked his fingers, then let one hand go and held his other one. "Come," she said. "You're almost home." They resumed walking, holding hands.

"I kin kiss you," said Chester. "You cain't kiss him or marry 'im, leastways not whilst he's sick. You could know me as a husband, iffen you married me."

"Well, I surely do like you as a man, Chester," said Celeste. "That hasn't changed. But I _love _Keaton, and he's taking care of me."

"A consumptive. Dyin' maybe," said Chester. "Seems ta me you're the one has to take care of him."

"I like taking care of him. I meant he can provide for me, and he is. His store is prospering without him there," said Celeste.

"M-maybe eff ah drink from 'is toddy cup or somethin' I'll catch it. I kin vie for yer hand in fairness with 'im then. Maybe you'll choose to take care of me 'stead of him."

Chester was being mordant. Celeste had heard him take that tone with Doc, but never with her until now. She tried to pull her hand out of his and he held onto hers. She yanked her hand free. "Chester, I understand your distress, but you needn't talk like a fool."

She was right, and he could think of no answer. He could only walk beside her while his gut felt like a boiling kettle and the dark emptiness of losing her stabbed his heart. His eyes filled with hot tears and overflowed, and he was helpless to quench them.

Celeste reached for his hand again. "I'm sorry," she said, recollecting she was apologizing for the third time. "I'm not a fit match for you, Chester. I don't mean to hurt you, and I keep doing it."

"You ain't ta blame, Miss Celeste. Don't pay me no mind; I jest love you so, ah lost ma head cuz yer leavin' me for him. You're a fine lady, the finest, an' you done nothin' wrong. It's my own doin' that um hurtin'. Onliest thing yer doin' is what's honorable by the man you love."

"How kind," said Celeste, smiling up at him. "And so well done. You're a gentleman, Chester." His face flushed, and she kissed his hand.

"You'll see us off on the stage tomorrow, won't you. To say goodbye to me, that is. Of course you won't want to say bye to Keaton," said Celeste.

"I dun wanna look at 'im at all," Chester said with quiet fierceness, and wondered if Miss Celeste would come to him for comfort if Alexander died of the consumption that night. Maybe she'd stay in Dodge then, and ask Miss Kitty for her hostess job back. Alexander would not die before morning though, and Chester gave himself a silent scolding for hoping it.

"I'll be there," said Chester. He walked her to Dodge House and headed for the Long Branch, suddenly wanting very much to see Miss Kitty.

Kitty sat playing solitaire and thinking broodingly of Matt, her mouth curved down a bit and her lovely features mildly sulky. Her thoughts focused on wishing he was sitting at the table talking with her. The saloon was never dull with Matt there.

He and Kitty saw less of each other in the busy seasons. Although the Long Branch was crowded and noisy with cowboys and farmers, and as many gals as Kitty could afford to hire, the place at times sapped her spirits.

Above the talk and laughter and player piano, Kitty's ears were tuned to hear the creak of swinging batwings. She looked up as Chester entered and saw the difference in him. He looked numb, not quite shocked but close to it, and Kitty figured Celeste was the cause. She must have broken it off with him to care for Alexander.

Chester approached her and tipped his hat, and Kitty gave him a sympathetic look. "Hello, Chester."

"Miss Kitty."

"Set. I'll buy you a beer."

"Thank you. I sure could use one."

"I'll be right back." Kitty put her hands on his shoulders, then wended her way to the bar.

Chester looked around at the gals, most of whom were passably pretty. He had no interest in them since meeting Miss Celeste, and still felt no desire to chat with them now that she was leaving him.

Kitty came back to the table with two beers and seated herself, and Chester moved his chair close to hers. He took a long swallow from his mug, heaved a sigh and gazed into it.

Kitty lay her hand on his back and rubbed it just the speck of a minute. She was proper about her attentions to him. He wished she felt for his hurting enough to rub him longer. "Somethin' on your mind?" she said.

"Miss Celeste's leavin' town tomorrow with that Alexander feller," said Chester.

"Well, she much as told you she would. And when he came down with consumption, that settled it for her. This can't be a shock to you, Chester."

"Reckon not. S'posin' it might happen that way don't make it easier to take, though."

"I know," said Kitty. "You feel lost without her. Like nothing means anything anymore."

"It doesn't," said Chester. He gulped beer.

"Chester, you can't see it now, but by this time next year, Celeste Chandler will just be a hazy memory to you."

"No," said Chester, shaking his head. "You're nice as you kin be 'bout this, Miss Kitty, but you don't unnerstan'." He felt the burn of tears again and swiped at his eyes. He didn't like to cry in front of Miss Kitty.

"Oh Chester," said Kitty. She put her hand on his arm. "Lotta pretty girls right here," she said. "Sweet and obliging, most of 'em."

"Don't wanna do no sparkin'. You don't unnerstan'," Chester repeated. He folded his arms on the table, rested his head on them and wept.

Kitty stroked his hair, then said something in his ear. Chester lifted his head to look at her. "Forevermore, Miss Kitty, I jest dunno how you kin suggest sech a thang at a time like this," he reproved. "Not that ah'm not thankful for your kindness; I am, but gracious sakes."

"Why not?" said Kitty. "She'll make you feel better."

"She cain't. How she tries, no matter." Chester took a bandanna from his pocket, soaked it with beer and washed his face with it, and blew his nose. He wadded up the bandanna and put it in his pocket.

"I could've got you some water," said Kitty.

"Which gal was you thinkin' on, Miss Kitty."

Kitty smiled. "Colette Lilly." Colette Lilly was the sultriest of Kitty's girls, with a big erect bosom, little waist, and ample hips, backside and legs, all round, taut yet soft. She had thick hair, shining black and curling, which she wore loose and unruly to her waist, a full mouth, slanting dark-blue eyes and peachy skin.

"Colette Lilly," Chester softly echoed.

"How about I call her over," said Kitty.

Chester drained his beer mug. "Well, Miss Kitty, I . . . ." He snickered.

"_Collette!" _Kitty yelled, beckoning to the woman.

Collette sashayed to the table. "Yes, Kitty," she said. Pitched low, her voice was soft and melodic.

"I want you to show Chester a good time," said Kitty.

Chester tugged his hat brim. "Collette," he said.

"Hello, Chester." Collette held out her hand to him. Her long fingernails were painted crimson.

Chester stared wide-eyed at her, unmoving. Collette took his hand and pulled, and he rose from his chair, staring at her. "By the way, Kitty, how is Matt?" Collette said easily. "We haven't visited in awhile."

"Collette," said Kitty.

"Aww. You're touchy about it?" said Collette. "No need to be, honey. Everyone knows Matt would rather be with you than any woman alive. But he _is_ a man. Not many of 'em can resist _me_.

"Ain't that right, sweet thing," she said to Chester. "Hey, you're kinda pretty, now that I'm gettin' a close look at you.

"He's a sweet one," Collette said to Kitty. "He's not like these animals in here."

"Come on, dearie," Collette said to Chester. "I'll show you my room." He let her lead him to the stairs, limping after her in a daze.

Matt pushed through the batwings, heading for Kitty's table as Collette and Chester started up the flight. Kitty brightened as though a lit lamp cast its light on her fair face, invigorated by the sight of him. "Kitty," said Matt. "Where's Chester goin'? That's Collette Lilly."

"Mm-hmm," said Kitty. "You have no trouble recognizing her."

Matt watched as Collette led Chester into her room and closed the door. "Chester has no money for that," said the marshal.

"I'm payin' for it," said Kitty. "Sit down, Matt. Want a beer?"

"Thanks. I thought he was in love with Celeste Chandler," said Matt, as Kitty stood up to go to the bar.

"He is. She's leaving town tomorrow with that beau of hers from New York. You, know, the one who caught consumption," said Kitty.

"She _is_. Kitty, are you sure Chester can handle Collette at a time like this?" said Matt.

"You can go to her room and knock on the door. Tell Chester to come outa there," said Kitty.

Matt snorted. "He'd never forgive me," he said, grinning.

"Don't worry," said Kitty. "Collette's like a tonic, only her treatment doesn't come in a bottle."

Matt drank a beer and another as he and Kitty talked for an hour, their conversation starting with the habitual topics of their friends, Matt's job, the Long Branch and Dodge, then branching into profound realms which lead to where their lives and the lives of their friends and acquaintances were going, for neither of them wanted or imagined themselves in any way apart from friends and community, in which they were thoroughly involved. Their talk flowed effortlessly, as they were always at ease with each other, never feeling a moment of awkwardness. Kitty delighted in talking to Matt beyond anyone she knew, while he confided in her, told her things he was comfortable sharing only with her, that only she would understand.

Every few minutes Matt frowned in concern and looked up to the floor above at the closed door to Collette's room. "Matt, it's alright," Kitty reassured. "I know what folks think of Collette, but she's a thoughtful, gentle girl. Chester's in . . . _nurturing_ hands, and she likes him. She thinks he's sweet."

"I'm just worried this is all too much for him, Kitty," said Matt.

"You think Collette's . . . services will hurt him when the love of his life just rejected him?" said Kitty. "You're a man."

"Well, of course he won't _feel _hurt by 'er. Just the opposite." Matt raised his brows and grinned, then reddened when Kitty frowned at him. "What I mean is . . . all the different strong feelings hitting him at once could shock him. Doc can describe it better than me. Chester's tendersome, Kitty."

"Well, I know that. I know he's tendersome. So you think Doc would discourage the Collette Lilly cure?" Kitty asked. Matt looked at her a moment, feigned concentration on her question, then chuckled.

"Oh Matt," said Kitty, smiling. "I should've known better than to ask you. You're the one who asked me about it to begin with."

"On account of I'm worried about him, Kitty."

Kitty lay her small white hand atop his big weathered one. Although Matt loved everything about Kitty, her hands held a special charm for him, and he was enthralled by them when she touched him. "I know," said Kitty. "I am, too. We'll take care of him, Matt, you and me and Doc." Matt enclosed her hand in his, feeling of its fingers and contours. He thought of the little silk pillows in small bright boxes, the ones in which rings were sold.

"I tend to forget at times like this how resilient Chester is," said Matt, rubbing Kitty's hand. "His light-hearted side will get him through alright, don't you think, Kitty?"

Kitty nodded. "Sure it will. We'll help him get through."

"Chester's stronger than we give him credit for," said Matt.

"Here they come," Kitty said.

Side by side, Chester and Celeste descended the stairs. "He looks like he always does," said Matt.

"He's got a little more spirit than when he came in here," said Kitty. "He just looked droopy and blank at first, then he started crying. Matt, I felt so sorry for him."

"It's for the best that Miss Celeste and Alexander are leaving Dodge tomorrow," said Matt.

Chester and Collette moved to the table, and Matt pushed back his chair and stood, touching a finger to his hat brim. "Collette," he said.

"Hello, Matt," said Collette. "Please sit down; I don't wanna disturb you and Kitty. I'm just bringing Chester over. He needs some more company." She hugged Chester, who looked embarrassed.

"I'll bring you a beer, honey," Collette said to him. "Drink's on the house when a fella— You folks know." She let out a deep throaty giggle.

"Kitty, can I bring you and Matt another beer?" said Collette.

"Please," said Kitty. "I'm buyin'."

"Sure, honey." Collette smiled at Kitty. "We had a good time, Chester and me. He's real sweet." She sashayed to the bar.

"Wahl I— Mr. Dillon," Chester said nervously, his face cherry-red.

"Alright, Chester," said Matt. "Sit down." Chester sat at Kitty's other side.

"Soon be dinnertime," said Matt. "I'm gettin' hungry. How about after this beer you fetch Doc, Chester, come back by the Long Branch for Kitty and me and we go to Delmonico's."

"Sounds like a plan," said Kitty.

"Well," said Chester. "Alright."

He was quiet and still while Matt and Kitty chatted, stirring only to sip from his beer. "Reckon ah'll go fer Doc now," he said. He limped slowly to the batwings, his shoulders slumped.

"Matt, he's awful quiet," said Kitty. "That isn't like Chester."

"I know," said Matt.

"What is it, Chester," said Doc, when Chester came in his office looking morose.

"Mr. Dillon says come with him and Miss Kitty to Delmonico's for supper. An' me. An' stop by the Long Branch to meet up with 'em."

"Best idea I've heard all day, by golly. This cold weather has me so hungry, I can eat a whole chicken with the fixins. You look like you lost your last friend, Chester," said Doc, putting on his coat. "You have a spat with Celeste, did ya?"

"She's leavin' town tomorrow on the stage with 'er sick beau. She's gonna drap 'im at a sanitarium outside Tucson an' stay in the city so's she kin visit 'im," said Chester.

"So she took my advice then," said Doc, reaching for his hat.

"You tole Miss Celeste ta leave Dodge, Doc?" Chester said faintly, paling visibly.


	3. Chapter 3

Doc gave Chester a penetrating look. "I didn't _tell _her to do anything," said Doc. "Celeste Chandler is a grown woman, makes her own decisions. I _recommended _that she go with him to Arizona. Alexander is very attached to her. He wouldn't last the winter without her close by."

"He might die anyways," Chester said bitterly. "No matter if she's with 'im or not."

"That's so. He has a more of a chance with her caring for him, though," said Doc. "Let's get Kitty and Matt and go eat. It's hard to talk on an empty stomach."

Chester stood motionless as Doc opened the door. "Well, you comin'? Or are you gonna stand there all night."

"Doc," said Chester in a hoarse whisper, "You are the most callous person I done ever seed. You jest don't unnerstan' anythin' at all." His face crumpled and he cried.

Doc closed the door and took off his hat. "Set a minute," he said.

Chester sat on the lounge. Doc handed him a clean handkerchief and sat beside him. "Chester, I know this is hard for you. You're too much in love with Celeste to see it now, but you'll be better off when she's not around. She wouldn't have married you. She wants her man to provide for her so she don't have to work, and she and Alexander are suited to each other. She's not a good match for you."

Doc patted Chester's back. "Everything'll be alright. You'll feel like yourself again before you know it. Come on, let's get something to eat."

Chester followed Doc out the door and down the stairs. "Miss Celeste kissed me in a passion today," said Chester. "She remembered herself on account of she's a lady, but she-she wanted me, Doc. She wouldna kissed me like that iffen she loves him so much."

"Chester, she made her decision," said Doc as they headed for the Long Branch. "Now you need to accept that."

"She ain't betrothed or married to 'im so he got no claim on her. I kin stay near Miss Celeste an' be 'er friend. I kin keep courtin' her if I want to."

"What if she doesn't want you to be her friend and court her anymore? Chester, things are changed for her since Alexander took sick. She's thinking about him now. I'm telling you what I know. You trail Celeste to Tucson, she won't welcome your attentions," said Doc.

Chester stopped in front of the Long Branch batwings. "Doc, I love her more'n any woman I ever met. If Miss Celeste tells me straight out she don't want me for her friend no more, ah'll honor that. 'Til then, I'm gonna try my dangdest ta win her hand. She 'n that Alexander are takin' the noon stage out; well, I'll be on the three o'clock on ma way to the same place, and ah'm tellin' her so tomorrow at the stage depot. I kin git me a barkeepin' job or somewhat like that in Tucson."

"Well, of all the durn fool— You are so muleheaded," said Doc, raising his voice, which clearly carried to Matt and Kitty still sitting at the same table inside the Long Branch.

"_If you hadn't a put the idea in her head ta leave Dodge, I wouldn't haveta foller her!" _Chester shouted.

"Matt, they're quarreling outside," said Kitty.

"We'd better get out there," Matt said.

The voices grew louder as Doc and Chester argued, neither waiting for the other to speak. Matt appeared on the other side of the batwings with Kitty beside him. _"Doc," _said Matt.

"Maybe you can talk some sense into him," Doc said to Matt. "I never seen anyone so addled stubborn. _You're so all-fired determined to hurt yourself,_ _Chester,"_ Doc said fiercely, glaring at Chester. "Won't listen to reason."

Chester gaped at Doc. Matt and Kitty stepped out onto the walkway. "Calm down, Doc," said Matt, and Kitty put her arm around Chester.

"Doc? What's wrong?" said Chester.

"Nothing's wrong," said Doc in his usual voice, his look returning to the face Chester knew. "Chester, by thunder. If you're gonna tell Celeste at the depot tomorrow you intend to follow her to Tucson, then I'll see her off on the stage, too. You'll need a friend nearby when she gives you her answer. Alexander won't take kindly to you, either." Doc patted Chester's arm.

"I don't care what he thinks," said Chester. "Sick man like him don't scare nobody."

By fifteen minutes of noon the next day, Matt, Kitty and Doc were at the stage depot waiting with Chester. "I surely am obliged yer all here whilst I talk to Miss Celeste," said Chester. "It eases me some."

"They're comin'," said Matt.

Celeste held Keaton's arm, and the two walked slowly. He'd grown thin during his short stay in Dodge, and he looked unsteady on his legs. Two boys walked behind them, carrying their trunks.

"Hello," said Celeste, smiling. "How nice of you all to come say goodbye to us." They exchanged greetings, except for Chester and Alexander. The youths set the luggage down on the walk, and Alexander thanked them, giving each boy a quarter.

"My, yer purty, Miss Celeste," said Chester.

"Thank you, Chester."

"I got somewhat important to say to you," said Chester.

"What could you have to say to my lady," said Alexander. His face was chalky and haggard, his eyes sunken and his voice weak. Chester was tempted to hope that Miss Celeste would soon tire of this wasted fellow. It was an uncharitable hoping, but Chester could not help thinking it.

" 'Tain't yer affair," Chester said to Alexander. "You kin listen or not as you please."

"Anything another man says to Celeste is my affair," said Alexander. "And I do please."

"You ain't married nor betrothed to her," said Chester. "What I say to Miss Celeste is 'tween her and me; if you hear it or not, no matter."

Alexander pulled his arm from Celeste's hold. "Perhaps you'd like to settle this with a fight, Chester," he said.

"There'll be no fighting here, Alexander," said Matt.

"Don't be absurd, Keaton," said Celeste. "You're in no condition to fight. You'd faint away if Chester hit you."

"I haven't been tried, my love," said Alexander.

"I ain't gonna hit a consumptive," said Chester.

"You think you're mighty strong and smart, don't you, Chester," said Alexander.

"Oh do hush, Keaton," said Celeste. "Don't disgrace us. What is it you want to tell me, Chester."

"I aim ta ride out on the three o'clock stage. Lessen you tell me not to."

"Oh?" said Celeste. "Where are you going?"

"Tucson."

Alexander hit Chester, putting little force behind the punch in his weakened state, and Chester barely stumbled. _"Keaton," _said Celeste.

Matt stepped close to Alexander as Chester rubbed his jaw. "That's enough," the marshal ordered. "I said no fighting."

"He can't follow us," Alexander said to Matt. "Celeste doesn't want him to. Where is the blamed coach. I'm tired standing."

"It's a few minutes late," said Matt. "Should be comin' in any time."

"Sit on the bench yonder, Keaton," said Doc.

"No," said Keaton. "I must make sure this man won't track us to Tucson."

"Celeste?" said Matt.

"I don't want you to follow me, Chester," Celeste said gently. Chester winced, his eyes narrowing and his face tightening as though he'd been struck in the stomach. "Or write me, either. This is goodbye." Celeste reached for his hand. "I'll never forget you," she said. "I know I hurt you terribly and I'm sorry." She let his hand go.

"But you will forget him in time, Celeste," said Alexander. "Or if you don't forget, you won't bring him to remembrance."

"Why don't you shut up," Kitty snapped at Alexander.

Keaton faced Kitty and took off his hat, uncovering his wiry brown curls. He made the gesture with a sort of courtly grace, and Kitty knew he wanted to show off his fine head so she'd admire him. "I do apologize, Miss Kitty," said Keaton. "I'm madly in love with Celeste, and it makes me so beastly jealous, my manners escape me."

Kitty nodded. "I'm sorry I tempered at you," she said. "I know you're feeling poorly."

"You're very kind, ma'am," said Keaton. "And here comes the stage. I shall be relieved to sit down."

"Like I tole you yesterday," Chester said to Celeste, "You're not ta blame for my hurtin', not at all. You're a gracious lady, Miss Celeste," he said, his voice quivering with feeling. "The finest."

"And you're a fine gentleman, Chester," she said.

The man riding shotgun jumped to the walk, picked up their trunks and tossed them on top of the stage. Chester opened the coach door. Alexander looked ready to collapse, so Chester helped him inside, took Celeste's hand and helped her in and closed the door. Spreading a traveling rug over Alexander's lap, she did not meet Chester's eyes again.

The driver slapped the reins on the horses' backs and they broke into a gallop, and the stage rolled down Front Street and out of Dodge. Chester leaned on the hitching rail and covered his head with his arms. Matt and Doc patted his back, then Matt headed for the marshal's office while Doc went to his rooms above the stairs.

Kitty ran her hand over Chester's hair. "Come see me when you feel up to it," she said softly. "I'll buy you a beer and we'll talk." He nodded, and Kitty walked back to the Long Branch.

Epilogue

Matt rarely danced. He was not light on his feet or sure of his steps like Doc, who enjoyed it, nor did the marshal throw himself into the dance like Chester, without a care for any folks judging his performance. So when Matt led Kitty onto the floor at the harvest dance, she was thrilled.

He was careful and precise in his movements and not at all stiff, as though he'd rehearsed for a theater play and the curtain had risen on his special act of the night with Kitty. Proud to be his partner, Kitty delighted in the audience they attracted, as the townspeople were curious to watch Marshal Dillon dance. The best part of the night for Doc were his turns with Kitty, and between dances with Doc and Matt, who she urged with childlike eagerness to join her in waltzes and reels alike, Kitty had time only to sip punch and fan herself until the next song.

Chester sat by himself in a corner, and with a brooding look watched his friends. They sensed his mood and let him be, even Doc, who usually sat with Chester and kept him company at dances, as not many women accepted his invitations to dance, which he couldn't do much of without tiring anyway on account of his leg.

He hadn't asked for a dance tonight, nor spoken to anyone at the gathering. He'd planned to ask Miss Celeste to the dance, and the festivities which normally enlivened him and lifted his spirits made him feel sad and alone.

Chester cried a shameful lot these days. The tears commenced with Miss Celeste saying she was leaving him, and he'd been helpless ever since to turn them off. He felt them well up hot in his eyes now, and pulled out the white linen handkerchief he saved for Sundays and celebrations.

"Hello, honey." With the linen covering his face, he knew who owned that voice, which recollected a sheet of silk and a cat's purr both to once. Chester quickly mopped his face dry and looked at the saloon gal and woman of the night, Collette Lilly. She wore a string of pearls and blue crystal earbobs, and her thick dark hair piled neatly on top of her head. Her dark-blue velvet dress matched her eyes, had long sleeves and swept the toes of shoes that covered her feet. She would have looked ladylike, except the V-neck of her dress barely covered the nipples of her firm generous bosom.

Chester stood up and tipped his hat. "Collette," he said. "You look very pretty."

"Thank you."

"Set a spell?" said Chester. "Kin I fetch you some punch?"

"No thanks, honey. I'll just set with you awhile. You look like you could use a friend close by."

"I'd admire you to set with me," said Chester.

"You're sweet, Chester," said Collette.

"Would you like to dance, Collette? It's the Merry Widow Waltz."

"I'd love to, darling."

Chester rose, bowed and held out his hand to her, and led her onto the floor. Collette looked up into his eyes and smiled as they haltingly danced, the boot on the foot of his stiff leg stomping the floor like a drum accompaniment. Her eyes were sure pleasing to look at, but his own round brown eyes were irresistibly drawn to the pillows of her breasts. Collette giggled, low-pitched and hearty, and Chester grinned, flushing.

"Matt, look," said Kitty as she danced with the marshal. "Chester's dancing with Collette."

"Well, like you said, Kitty," said Matt. "She works like a tonic. From what he's lookin' at there, he wants another dose."

"You should know," said Kitty, and let out a loud cackling laugh. Matt glanced around, a little embarrassed. She had a powerful thirst from the exercise and the punch was heavily laced with brandy, or she wouldn't have thought her words funny.

"Collette said she's falling in love with Chester, by the way," said Kitty. "She told me he can have her for free whenever he wants."

Matt grinned. "He'll be happy to hear _that_."

"Sure," said Kitty. "You were happy to hear it from me, handsome." She cackled again.

The waltz ended, and Matt and Kitty joined Doc at a table. "I see Chester's finally out of the mopes," said Doc. Entwined in each other's arms, Chester and Collette were kissing in the middle of the room. Doc meditatively tugged his ear. " 'Twon't go beyond mere pleasure unless Collette changes her ways," he said. "Chester only courts ladies."

"It might go better for Chester that Collette's not a lady," said Matt. "He's had more than enough courtin' for a spell."

END


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